| General Poetry
posted February 14, 2019 |
Rhyming Quatrain
Shoo, Shoo, Away!
I hope to drive a wasp away
because it’s landed near.
I shoo it, waving as I pray,
caught in a faithless fear.
It buzzes ‘round me busily,
then flies beside my head.
I’m flaying at it dizzily,
and wishing it were dead.
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